


everything goes away (but i'm gonna be here)

by wolveheart



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Warming Up, Warning for canon-typical mentioning of suicide and drug abuse, as in zombies warming up if u catch my drift, i guess, warning for major character death, yes amy is not alive in this i am so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2195784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolveheart/pseuds/wolveheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't take much to tip the scales to either side. Reaching a state of equilibrium is what requires time and doesn't come easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything goes away (but i'm gonna be here)

**Author's Note:**

> written for the #saveintheflesh challenge by [intheflesh-art](http://intheflesh-art.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for the prompt "We’re immortal, dum dum." (as said by Amy)
> 
> fic debut i'm really nervous and excited \o/ originally i thought i'd write a story with 1k maybe 2k words. then it ran away from me. horribly. i hope it's not too noticeable.
> 
> since i was my own beta (haha ha) all of the mistakes are mine. MINE. (feel free to point them out to me)
> 
> comments are love ^.^

> "We're immortal, dum dum!" Amy laughs, carefree in the way that only someone who believes in having all the time in the world can.
> 
> Kieren's mind swerves, carefully avoiding the path that follows 'immortal - eternity - forever'.
> 
> "I'm Amy Dyer. What's your name?"
> 
> Kieren takes the offered hand and begrudgingly admits to himself that maybe knowing someone with whom he shares this fate, and who will be there when no one else is anymore, is not that bad.

  
  


When he stands at her grave a year later, surrounded by mourners and tombstones, he thinks he hears the universe laugh at them.

Simon tentatively reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. The touch of cold on cold, the smell of freshly turned soil, a grey sky, rows of stones bring back the memories of years ago, when they had to die just to live forever.

Kieren's gaze doesn't leave the casket. He feels like laughing bitterly himself, like crying or hitting something because it's not fair and it isn't supposed to be like this. Instead, he allows his heart to become hollow and empty.

Even immortality, he thinks, can't be depended on. He stares at the coffin down in the ground waiting to disappear beneath a cover of soil.

(The scales tip to one side.)

  
  


+

  
  


"She's gone."

Kieren doesn't know what happens afterwards, doesn't know how he gets home.

When he wakes up on the next morning, he feels less alive than ever.

  
  


At noon, Kieren goes to the bungalow. His breath forms little clouds and when his hands begin to shake, he buries them in his jacket pockets. He tells himself it's because his body remembers weather like this and what it was like to be in shock after losing a loved person.

The bungalow door isn't locked. When Kieren opens it hesitantly and steps over the threshold, he is greeted by silence. In his mind, he can already see the rest of the place lonely and deserted. Without a note and personal belongings, only cold surfaces and empty walls. Or maybe with a note saying 'sorry, had to leave, couldn't stay here'.

But then he notices Simon crouching on the floor, leaning against the wall opposite a closed door with his knees pulled up tightly to his body.

And Kieren knows what's behind the door, knows the faraway look in Simon's eyes, and that there's nothing to be said.

He closes the door and takes a few steps before sliding down the wall.

Their bodies are pressed together and Kieren thinks that if they were truly living, their hearts would beat in sync.

  
  


Eventually they do have to get up and go to the clinic. Yesterday, after Philip had burst into the waiting room, it was easy to forget about the bullet in Simon's shoulder.

Light rain is falling, blurring their vision.

It's hard to watch Dr. Russo peel back the layers of clothing and reveal the scar along Simon's spine and the bullet wound. It's a black hole, frayed edges, no blood or traces of other fluids.

"All these years and I still have no idea how all this is possible," Dr. Russo mumbles and takes a sterile instrument off a tray. It looks like abnormally large tweezers.

His movements are precise, clinical. Even though he can't comprehend what they are, he still treats them like any other patient. Kieren doesn't know if that's good or bad. He's more focused on Simon anyway, and he has to resist walking over and stretching out his hand to hold Simon's, giving reassurance.

From own experience, he knows that they cannot feel pain, not like that, but Simon's gaze is fixed on the ground, completely passive and Kieren wants to do something, wants to make things better.

The room is terribly silent, except for the noise of metal on metal when the instrument comes into contact with the bullet. Then of Dr. Russo carefully but determinedly removing the bullet, pulling it out of the flesh. 'It's okay, it's okay, he can't feel pain' Kieren repeats in his head, but still can't make himself look at it. The bullet was meant for him.

"Ah, I knew I'd forgotten something." Dr. Russo turns to Kieren, smiling apologetically. "Kieren, could you please bring over that dish from the counter?"

Kieren nods and gets the dish. The bullet drops into the glass with a 'clink'. Kieren can't look away from the deformed metal.

'This was supposed to kill me,' he thinks, 'and if not me, then Simon.' He catches a glimpse of Simon's bare wrists and the track marks.

He is hyper aware of his own wrists underneath the thick jumper sleeves, where the skin is stapled together. Proof of death and survival at the same time. Memories of a dark cave, cold metal and warm blood underneath rush over him and he thinks of how he sought relief in death but got the grand forever instead.

Even death, he thinks, can't keep its promises. He puts the glass dish on the table and listens to Simon's even breathing, concentrating on it to calm himself.

(The scales tip to the other side.)

  
  


+

  
  


The few days before the funeral pass by in a haze. It reminds Kieren of late autumn mornings near the forest, when the fog was so thick he could barely see where it was safe to place his feet. There were days when the fog would never lift completely, not even when the sun peeked through the grey clouds. The comparison is awfully easy to make.

Surprisingly enough, it doesn't take much persuasion for his parents to hold a wake at their place.

"She wants it to be 'an incredibly wonderful tea party, with a beautiful cake and no tears'," Kieren reads from Amy's will. Dr. Russo had given the letter to him, saying it had been in her handbag. The envelope reads 'Kieren Walker' in neat handwriting.

"I can do that,“ Sue says, smiling slightly. "And maybe Jem wants to help plan and decorating?" She addresses her daughter who is sitting on the sofa, snuggling up in a blanket and holding a mug of steaming tea between her hands.

When hearing her name she turns her head in Sue and Kieren's direction. "Yeah, I'd like to."

There's a small smile on her lips and she seems to care genuinely. 'A streak of sunlight through grey clouds', Kieren thinks.

"Thanks." He looks down at his hands lying on the white tablecloth. In his mind, he can still see them covered in red blood - how? - and his fingers twitch, trying to wrap themselves around another hand, wanting to hold on and never let go, the way it should be.

He doesn't know how to arrange a funeral, doesn't know if he can do it, doesn't know if he can ask his parents without bringing back the ugly memories.

He doesn't know where he can place his feet without stumbling over the uneven ground.

  
  


+

  
  


They bury her on a Monday, a bit over a week before Christmas.

When Kieren lets the drawing fall on the casket, it's in farewell, but not in goodbye.

He tells himself that it's okay, he has enough time to do that, to accept and say goodbye and let go. Eternity is an awfully long time.

A look at Simon and Philip tell him he won't be the only one who will turn around and walk away, while his heart remains at the graveside.

  
  


+

  
  


It's the anniversary of the Rising, or four days before Christmas, depends on how you want to look at it. The temperatures are still dropping and the sky is never free of grey clouds, but it hasn't snowed yet.

Out of habit Kieren grabs his jacket when he makes his way to the bungalow. After a few minutes on his way, his hands begin to tremble again. He rubs them together and it stops for a second before it returns. Kieren glances around, checking for any observers, but the streets are empty. Continuing seems like the best idea, so he stuffs his hands into his pockets and keeps on walking.

This time, the door is locked. Wondering whether this is a good sign, Kieren rings the doorbell. When Simon opens the door, he looks surprised and for a short moment Kieren thinks about the possibility that maybe he isn't wanted here or that it would've been better if he had stayed away.

But then Simon smiles and steps back, holding the door wide open.

"Hey. Come inside."

Kieren smiles back and as soon as he has stepped over the threshold, Simon leans in and kisses him. All doubts seem ridiculous and if this kiss feels more intense than the ones they've had in the past, Kieren blames it on how long it's been since the last time. Even though that doesn't really make sense.

Despite everything, it's rather chaste and Simon pulls back after what can't be more than a few seconds. He closes the door with his foot, never leaving Kieren's personal space.

"Hey to you too." Kieren smiles. "What've you been up to?"

"See for yourself," Simon just says and takes Kieren's hand.

They make their way through the hallway to the living room. At first everything looks the same, except for the closed door of Amy's room. Then Kieren sees several cardboard boxes standing around and notices posters missing on the walls. One spot appears to be freshly painted. There's no indication of the occupants having connections to anything like the ULA or the Undead Prophet.

Kieren stops in the doorway.

"Does... does this mean you're leaving after all?" He hates how quiet his voice sounds.

Simon turns around sharply, his eyes fixed on Kieren's.

"No, I told you I'm staying put."

Kieren frowns. "Then what-"

"I'm no longer part of it, no longer a disciple. I can't explain why, not yet. I will eventually, I promise, just... not now, okay?"

It's strange to see Simon unsure and pleading when he can be like a spark that makes people light up with strength and confidence. Nevertheless, it's still Simon.

"Okay." Kieren nods. "But you really do have to tell the whole story at some point. Because if we want this to work, and I do, we need to talk to each other. That's how relationships work."

"I know." Simon takes a shallow breath. "So this is a relationship?"

A grin appears on Kieren's face and he playfully punches Simon's shoulder. "Of course it is, doofus."

Simon's shoulders relax. "Good." And then he grabs Kieren by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him in for another kiss.

This time it's neither short nor chaste; they've got time on their side and it's tough to be tender when you hardly feel a thing.

  
  


+

  
  


Kieren doesn't return home for the night.

"I think it's good that you keep him company, Kier,“ Sue tells him over the phone. "It must be hard, being in that house all alone."

The faint sound of guitar strings being tuned is coming from the living room. With the phone still at his ear, Kieren walks to the source of it and finds Simon sitting on the sofa with an acoustic guitar resting on his legs. With his right hand he gently plucks at the strings, playing a simple and soft melody. His eyes are closed and he doesn't even notice Kieren approaching.

Kieren smiles.

"Not alone“, he says softly into the phone.

Simon opens his eyes but doesn't stop playing.

"Goodnight, mum."

"Night, Kieren."

He hangs up and drops down on the free space on the couch, pulling his feet up. He gestures at the guitar.

"Play for me?"

Simon considers for a moment, then nods. The melody changes.

When he said 'play', Kieren hadn't expected Simon to sing. He's glad he gets to hear it anyway.

_"I knew a lady who lived in Duluth, she got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth. She went to her grave a little too soon, and she flew away howling at the yellow moon.”_

Their eyes meet and they share a smile. Neither of them has to say anything, they both had heard Amy hum the song under her breath countless times.

When Kieren closes his eyes, it's as if he can hear her humming along from the other sofa. Instead of wanting to shut the thought off, to push it back into a corner so it can't hurt him, he feels comforted by it and wants it to stay.

It's a start, he thinks.

  
  


+

  
  


Following Sue's invitation, Shirley and Philip come over to the Walker's house for Christmas dinner. When Simon asks if he's allowed to come as well, Sue laughs and tells him not to be silly and that if he doesn't sit at her table at six o'clock, there'll be hell to pay.

So they all gather around the festive meal and if it's a bit awkward at first because Shirley and Philip don't really know Simon, then it's forgotten by the time Steve and Kieren attempt to sing Christmas carols along to Simon playing guitar.

Even Philip cracks a smile and chimes in when Jem demands they try 'Silent Night'. Everyone sings at the top of their voices and it sounds absolutely terrible, but it's the first time they all laugh freely.

 

  
+

 

 

Three days after Christmas they fight against boredom by playing cards.

Kieren sits cross-legged on the floor, right in front of the small table, while Simon found a comfortable place opposite of him on the sofa.

He is about to win when Kieren's hands start shaking so badly that he can't keep hold of his cards. They fall face up on the wooden table, but his hands won't keep still and he's sure that if his heart was beating, it would pound in a wild staccato, and the fact that Simon can see his cards quickly becomes the least important thought in his head.

He can't blame this on the cold, or loss, or shock. It's real, but he doesn't know why or what and it's not something he can simply ignore. It's terrifying.

Simon drops his card - ace of spades - so he can take Kieren's trembling hands into his. He doesn't offer lies - 'it's nothing, you're going to be okay, everything will be fine' - and he doesn't ask what's wrong or what's happening, only gives Kieren something to hold on to.

Still, the questions hang in the air like fog, They fill up the small room until it feels hard to breathe and neither of them knows where they would turn to find a way out.

 

 

+

 

 

On New Year's Eve the first snowflakes fall and Kieren's nose starts bleeding. Simon is the one who notices it and they excuse themselves to go upstairs, "maybe the view is better there".

Instead of watching the fireworks they sit in the dark room. Kieren holds on to Simon as if he's the only thing that keeps him anchored in the present.

With every firework that explodes in the sky the ground seems to tilt and shift and shudder.

Saying 'I'm scared' isn't necessary.

  
  


+

 

 

On the first Thursday morning of the new year Kieren sits on the sofa, waiting for his shot. Simon's gentle hands pulling back his shirt to reveal the catheter doesn't feel familiar yet, but it's not unpleasant. The procedure itself is well-known, a mere routine by now, like brushing your teeth, maybe. Just a bit more uncomfortable.

But then the syringe sinks into its place and before he can even think 'no, no please not' he feels all control slip through his fingers and his body starts moving on its own.

Regaining consciousness is like walking through water. A heavy weight is pressing him down, but instead of soil and cold ground there is the softness of cushion underneath. There's the smell of familiar laundry detergent and it's getting hard to breathe.

(It feels like a month ago, when he was not himself and Simon was there to pull back, to hold down and lead to safe ground.

Then again, it feels completely different.)

Kieren blinks, coughs and tries to shield himself from the panic that threatens to crash over him.

Simon sits up and crouches on the floor in front of Kieren, putting distance between them without letting go completely. He runs his cold fingers over Kieren's forehead, gently pushing away lost strands of hair.

"Hey," he says. It's barely audible and in that soft tone that makes Kieren want to grab and shake Simon, until all belief of him being wonderful, beautiful, incredible is gone. Or grab him and kiss him and give back in touches what he hasn't dared to say yet ('you are good, you are amazing, don't leave, please').

"You had me worried there for a moment." Simon smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Kieren laughs shakily. "Yeah, same here. What is-" Unbearable pain rolls over him like a wave, burying him underneath and he has to curl up and fold himself into the corner of the sofa, has to cover his head with his arms, anything to make it stop, to not let it come through, stop stop stop.

"Kieren?" Simon's voice sounds panicked, too loud, and it cuts right through Kieren's head, like thunder and crashing lightning bolts, and every clear thought is replaced by blinding white light behind his eyes and a shrill screeching.

And then it's gone, subsided as quickly as it came.

Slowly, Kieren lowers his arms and allows his body to take up more space again. His gasp for air sounds like those of someone who was close to drowning. (Maybe he was.)

When he lifts his head and glances at Simon, he is met with eyes full of worry and the words get barely past the lump in his throat.

"What is happening to me?" he whispers.

Simon shakes his head, then sits down carefully next to Kieren, pulling him into his arms. Kieren holds on to the soft fabric of the jumper.

He doesn't know if he's dizzy from lack of oxygen, or because the ground is actually moving and making it impossible to find a safe foothold.

(The scales keep tilting from side to side, alternating, unable to find the symmetry they need.)

  
  


+

 

 

A few days later Kieren visits Amy's grave. Fresh snow covers it like a soft blanket. Every sound is muffled by the snow. It's almost eerily quiet.

For a while Kieren just stands in front of the grave, letting the silence wash over him until there is not a single thought circling through his mind. His shoulders relax and he can feel the corners of his mouth lift up in a small smile.

He hadn't expected it to be so peaceful.

When he touches the gravestone, his hand trembles slightly. For a brief moment he closes his eyes, feels the pang in his chest that tells him the wound hasn't healed yet.

"I miss you," he whispers.

He waits until dusk. Turning around and leaving is easier than a month ago. Still, it's difficult to walk through the snow without slipping or stumbling.  
  


 

The lights are on in the bungalow, illuminating the path to the front door.

Kieren unlocks it with the key Simon had given him for Christmas.

As soon as he enters the corridor, he hears guitar-playing and when he closes the door behind him he realises that it's coming from Amy's room.

He quietly walks to the unusually open door and sees Simon sitting on the floor, leaning against the end of the bed. His eyes are open, but looking at nothing in particular. On his legs rests the guitar. The melody is calm, neither happy nor sad.

As far as Kieren can tell the room looks exactly the same as a month ago, except for the traces of dust on the surfaces.

He joins Simon on the floor and just listens to the music filling the room with warm tones and it's almost like the oscillation makes something come alive.

Maybe they haven't healed yet, Kieren thinks. But they'll get there eventually.

  
  


+

 

 

On Sunday the two of them sit together in the living room. Sue is in the kitchen, humming to herself. From their place on the sofa they can see Jem at the table, immersed in Kieren's old and battered copy of 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'. Steve is sitting across from her, doing what seems to be sorting through bills. He sighs every now and then.

The news logo flashes over the TV screen and a female newsreader appears.

"Good evening," she greets in a serious tone. "There seem to be fundamental changes happening in this country. Just a few hours ago, scientists Halperin and Weston, who are best known for their development of Neurotriptyline, the medication for Partially Deceased Syndrome sufferers, made a press statement.

According to reports, there were several individuals suffering from PDS who experienced the full return of all bodily functions a living person has. Halperin and Weston called this process 'Awakening' and 'Warming Up', but remarked that these terms are scientifically incorrect. They want all PDS sufferers to be aware of the possibility and to look out for symptoms such as tremors, seizures and nose bleeds. If these symptoms occur, it is highly recommended to make an appointment with your local physician to rule out immunity to the medication. There is no need to worry about past injuries as, when having received proper medical treatment, they appear to heal completely.

The reasons and the exact details of the process remain yet unclear. Should we get any further information, we will notify you immediately."

She continues with the next story, but no one is listening or watching. Time seems to have stopped.

In Kieren's mind the thoughts are racing against each other, a wild tangle of 'symptoms - Awakening - vital functions - living'.

Then it all clicks into place and he can see the full picture. The world stops spinning, the clock resumes ticking. He exhales.

When he turns around, he sees his family still frozen in place, their eyes fixed on him. He manages a half-smile.

"I guess I better call Dr. Russo."

Sue gasps and claps her hand over her mouth. Steve lets go of an envelope he was about to open. It falls on the table top with a quiet thump. Jem gapes at him, the book forgotten on the table.

Kieren turns to Simon, who is staring at him with the same look he had in the hospital a month ago. When Simon reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers, Kieren closes his eyes and exhales again.

It's going to be okay, he tells himself. It's better to know than to stumble around in the dark. It will be okay, it'll be fine. The words feel bitter and he's glad he doesn't have to speak them out loud. He's never been a fan of lying.

  
  


+

  
  


Even though he doesn't know how much he can actually rely on Dr. Russo, Kieren lets him carry out an examination.

"Congratulations, Kieren", Dr. Russo announces cheerfully when he puts away the last instrument. "It seems you'll be back among the living soon."

Instead of replying Kieren gets up and leaves, walking away from the room with its oppressive white walls and cold metal instruments.

He goes through the waiting room. Simon is sitting on the edge of one of the uncomfortable chairs. When he spots Kieren, he gets up to follow him outside, where the snow is falling and their breaths form little clouds. He doesn't ask for Dr. Russo's diagnosis, doesn't say anything. He almost has trouble keeping up with Kieren's fast pace.

The crunching of snow under their shoes accompanies them until they reach the bungalow. Kieren stops, unsure why he even chose to go here, unsure what to do now. The snow is still falling in thick flakes, and when he runs his fingers through his hair, they come back wet. I'll be able to feel that, instead of just seeing that, he thinks. His knees feel weak and he sits down on the front step. Simon is standing in front of him, hands hanging uselessly at his sides, despite the tension in his shoulders.

"Why is this happening to me?" Kieren's not sure if he's asking Simon, or no one, or anyone who could offer an answer.

"Why does it have to happen now? Just when I'm finally okay with who I am. What if I'm not supposed to live like a normal person? It's not like my first try ended spectacularly good. I can't do that again."

His hands begin to tremble again and he shakes them with more force than necessary. He doesn't know how to slow down the images in his head - him alive, breathing and laughing with Jem; him alive, lying in bed not able to get up; him alive, blood covering his wrists and hands and arms. He's not even sure if they are flashbacks or predictions  _and why won't his hands stop shaking?_

Determinedly, Simon sits down next to him and takes his hands, rubbing gentle but firm circles.

"Whether your heart is beating or not, that doesn't change who you are. You are a normal person now, and you'll be a normal person when your body is completely alive again." Simon's voice is calm and soothing.

"You are given another chance, I'd say that's enough reason to believe you are meant to live. And this time you know what to do to avoid the same outcome. Dark days happen, they're a part of life, but they are not the end.“

He gives Kieren's hands a soft squeeze. "You are not alone, Kieren. There are people who love you and who want to help you, if you need it. Everything happens for a reason."

"How can you believe that?" Instead of disparaging incredulity, Kieren is surprised to find admiration in his voice.

Simon holds his gaze. "I want to live, and if I want to do that, I have to believe in something. Otherwise, I'm just back where I was before I died." He bumps his shoulder lightly against Kieren's. "Come, let's go inside. You're gonna catch your death in this cold weather." A smirk appears on his lips and he gets up from the front step, extending his hand to Kieren.

Reluctantly, Kieren looks at the offered hand, but he doesn't take it.

Simon crouches down in front of him so they are at eye-level again.

"Look, I'm not asking you to be happy about 'waking up', or whatever you want to call it. I'm also not asking you to believe in the same things that I do. I am asking you to look at this from different angles and not to give up before you've at least tried, okay?"

Kieren's eyebrows are raised, but he nods.

"Okay. For now." He lets Simon haul him up. "I'm not making any promises.“

Simon's lips quirk up a bit. "I didn't expect you to.“ Then he pulls Kieren inside the bungalow.

 

 

+

 

 

Knowing that 'forever' isn't going to happen feels strange. It's as if the clocks are ticking louder again, demanding more attention.

It doesn't feel right, but Kieren is sure he will get used to it, eventually.

  
  


+

  
  


On Wednesday Kieren wakes up early with the urge to wander to the kitchen, open the fridge and drink a glass of milk and then eat a toast with the strawberry jam his mum used to make every summer.

He places his palm over his chest. There is no heartbeat.

Strange, he thinks, and goes back to sleep.

  
  


+

  
  


On Friday he has another seizure. Knowing the reason doesn't make the experience itself less frightening; the memories of stumbling through a forest and trying to tie himself to a grave while fighting in his own mind are still too vivid.

Since he now knows that it isn't a sign of the medication being ineffective, Simon doesn't contrain Kieren. Instead, he moves the furniture out of the way and tries to make sure that Kieren can't hurt himself. Fortunately, it's over after less than a minute.

When Kieren is conscious again, they sit up and lean against the sofa. Somehow the floor seems safe, stable.

"I'm still scared," Kieren whispers. He rests his head on Simon's shoulder and reaches for his hand.

Simon lets him hold it tightly and squeezes back.

"I know. It's okay."

They stay like that for a long time. But time is nothing to worry about, Kieren thinks. At least not yet. Maybe never. Maybe he can live, knowing that the clock is ticking, but without constantly checking how much time has passed or how much still has to pass.

He figures he will just have to try it out.

  
  


+

  
  


In the night from Saturday to Sunday it snows heavily. From the bedroom window, Kieren watches the white flakes dancing in the wind. (He doesn't think of it as 'their bedroom' yet, just as he doesn't think of the bungalow as 'theirs' yet either, even though he spends a lot of time and most nights there.)

He stays at the window until Simon wakes up and pulls him back under the covers.

  
  


Morning comes and when they get up, Kieren is the first to look outside where he finds everything covered up by a thick layer of snow. There is something beautiful about it, but he still prefers green grass, blooming flowers and seeing where he's walking.

  
  


In the afternoon they decide to join Sue, Steve and Jem for tea.

On their way, they end up having a snowball fight. Later, they can't recall who started it and Kieren thinks it's probably not important. He can't remember ever seeing Simon like this, laughing and moving around so lightly and quickly, like there's no weight anymore that keeps pulling him down. Laughter threatens to bubble up and it makes his whole body shake when he throws a snowball and it hits Simon right in the face.

A few seconds later he has a handful of snow running down his back and he can actually feel the cold and wetness of it.

It doesn't feel so bad, he thinks, as Simon topples them over so he's pressing Kieren into the snow.

They try to kiss, but Simon is grinning too hard for it to last long and then Kieren's teeth start chattering.

When they get up, the sun comes out from behind the grey clouds. It's just momentary and not strong enough to provide any warmth, but for a brief moment, everything is bright and seems to be glowing.

They make the rest of the way without slipping once.

  
  


Sue stares at them wide-eyed when she opens the door. Recovering quickly, she orders Steve to fetch towels and urges them to come inside.

They dry off and change into other clothes before sitting down in front of the heater in the living room. It doesn't really do anything for Simon, but Kieren feels every muscle of his body relaxing, and it's warm and comfortable and calm.

He's happy, he realises. The air rushes out of his lungs in a surprised huff.

Simon turns his head and looks at him with raised eyebrows. Instead of explaining Kieren presses a quick kiss on Simon's lips.

They watch the rest of the family at the table, hear Jem slurping her cocoa and Steve chiding her for it, and the house is filled with the smell of freshly baked scones.

As Sue brings a plate with scones and puts it on the table, the last bit of daylight disappears and darkness settles over the village.

Inside, the lights shine brightly, illuminating everything. Nothing is hidden in the shadows.

Kieren presses his back against the heater and leans a little closer to Simon. He hadn't expected that he could feel this warm. The clock's ticking is a hum in the background, a fixture, a constant, beating the way a heart would.

  
  


+

  
  


When they walk back to the bungalow, the coldness of the night bites into Kieren's skin, but Simon gives him his jacket, and he thinks that maybe, probably, he's going to be okay.

  
  


+

 

 

The next day is a Monday and Kieren wakes up and can't breathe through his nose. Swallowing takes a lot of effort and his body is shivering while feeling almost aflame.

He sneezes, and then coughs, and then laughs. This is not how he imagined coming back to life.

Next to him, Simon wakes up and blinks confusedly, before Kieren takes his hand and places the palm on his own hot skin, right over the spot where his heart is beating behind the ribcage.

Simon laughs, and then tells him that he's still unbelievable and incredibly beautiful. Under his palm, Kieren's heart skips a beat.

  
  


Being sick is absolutely miserable, but it's also exciting in a way Kieren never thought it could be.

  
  


Sue drops by before work and leaves a big pot of soup. When Simon brings him a mug filled with the steaming broth, Kieren tries to sit up in bed. His head starts swimming a little, but it stops quickly and his vision clears. Everything seems sharp and bright and Kieren wonders if it's always been like that.

He swallows down the first spoonful of soup and feels heat blooming in his chest, spreading like the roots of a tree.

The soup tastes like the best thing he's ever eaten, even though he burns his tongue. He can feel every single muscle, every bit of skin where it touches the sheets, Simon's cold hand on his feverish skin, and he feels incredibly alive.

The ground doesn't shudder, shift, or shake.

  
  


+

  
  


It takes Kieren a whole week to recover properly. The first time he gets out of bed, he goes to watch Simon make him breakfast in the kitchen. Simon tells him to put on socks.

"Can't have you get sick again and die of the flu, you mere mortal," he grins.

Kieren coughs in his face and wraps himself in the orange blanket from the sofa.

"Some things never change," Simon mumbles and holds out a plate with fried eggs, bread and chocolate biscuits.

Kieren just shrugs and smiles, before happily munching on one of the biscuits.

  
  


+

  
  


The first time they kiss, it's barely more than a quick touch of lips.

Kieren brings some space between them to meet Simon's eyes with a steady gaze.

"I might have a pulse again, but I'm not fragile."

Simon doesn't look away, intensifies the gaze instead, and it makes Kieren wonder if he's trying to find a hint of uncertainty. Or if he's remembering the day in December when they both fought battles and won, or when he saw Kieren look into the bathroom mirror and smile at his own reflection.

Then Simon nods.

It's still a bit hesitant at the beginning, but then they find the perfect balance between giving and taking and Kieren feels a spark traveling through every cell of his body.

His heart is pounding loud and strong enough for both of them.

  
  


+

  
  


The darkness of the bedroom feels safe enough for Kieren to turn under the covers to look at Simon's face. Still, his voice is barely a whisper.

"Does it bother you that my body is already living and yours isn't?"

Simon opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything for a long time, almost long enough for Kieren to say 'okay, no, just forget about it'. Almost.

"It does, a little. Means I don't get to have the full experience, feel all the things you can. But I can wait. It's gonna happen when it's gonna happen. I'm okay with this, but I'd also be okay with my body 'waking up'. My happiness doesn't depend on that."

Kieren can't look away from Simon. He exhales a bit shakily.

"You're actually pretty amazing, did you know that?"

Instead of answering, Simon just smiles.

They find each others hands, intertwining their fingers. It feels like a promise.

  
  


+

  
  


On the third of April they ask Jem to help them with baking red velvet cupcakes.

Her face lights up. "Of course I'll help. Dr. Goldberg says that baking is a good choice of hobby. Keeps my hands occupied and gives me the opportunity to be productive and create beautiful things." When she sees Kieren and Simon looking slightly skeptical, she quickly adds, "Her words, not mine."

Jem's assistance doesn't keep them from turning baking into a flour war. Their laughter is so loud that Sue comes downstairs to check on them, but after realising that they're fine and the kitchen will probably not suffer irreversible damage, she tries to get out of the crossfire as fast as possible.

They decide on white frosting and rainbow coloured sprinkles. Kieren and Jem confirm that they taste as delicious as they look.

Simon gets to choose which one they take to the graveyard.

The sun is unusually bright and Kieren closes his eyes and cranes his head upwards. He inhales deeply and the smell of early blooming flowers and blossoms fills his nose. There's the chirping of birds coming from the nearby trees and if he concentrates hard enough, he can almost taste the fresh air.

Just four months ago everything had been buried under snow, and Kieren had thought to see that every year for all eternity. Now, he feels content with leaving immortality behind, as long as it means getting to feel life with every sense, to take it all in.

He opens his eyes and watches Simon place the cupcake on the gravestone.

"Happy birthday," Simon whispers, and straightens up so they stand shoulder to shoulder, his hand in Kieren's.

Kieren knows they both still feel the dull ache in their hearts, even if it's not as intense anymore. But death is a part of life, he thinks, and no matter how much it hurts or how unfair it is, it doesn't mean the end. Maybe that's just what he has to believe in to keep going. It doesn't sound so bad.

  
  


+

 

 

It's the beginning of May when, despite having no idea yet what to do with Amy's room, they decide that the layers of dust need to disappear.

The cleaning is not the hard part, although Kieren has to sneeze an awful lot. Packing things in cardboard boxes is much more difficult to do.

They begin with the books, because all they have to do is take them off the shelf. It doesn't seem too intimate. Many of the books are familiar. Kieren lips quirk up when he sees the old copies of 'Alice in Wonderland' and 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'. He places them carefully on top of the other books in the box.

It's a bit of a struggle to convince themselves that opening the wardrobe and packing the clothes away is necessary. In the end, they try to believe that the threat of moths destroying Amy's beautiful dresses outweighs all other arguments.

Kieren runs his fingers over the different textures and cloths and marvels at the variety of colours. He watches as Simon folds each item of clothing with such great care as if he were afraid to damage it.

They need three boxes for the clothes, but only a small one for make-up and perfumes. The jewellery finds a safe nest between a green jacket and a red petticoat.

Posters, cards and notes come last. It happens when Simon takes a picture of Amy and him, a present from Kieren, off the wall.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Kieren sees the picture fall to the ground. He turns around, wants to ask what's wrong, but the words get stuck in his throat when he notices that Simon's hands are shaking.

The world jolts a little, a missing piece finally clicking into place, and neither of them can quite believe it yet, but Kieren's heart feels incredibly light. It can't be a bad thing.

  
  


+

  
  


Two weeks later they buy Forget-Me-Not seeds in every colour the store has and bring them along to the graveyard.

Simon's hands shake too badly to open the packets, so when Kieren tells him to just sit on the side he doesn't protest.

There's a slightly chilly breeze, but the sun is warm. Kieren digs into the earth with his bare hands, making space in the damp soil for the new seeds to grow in.

When he's done, he sits down cross-legged next to Simon, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath so the fresh spring air fills up his lungs.

He thinks about endings and beginnings, deaths and forevers, about forests covered in fog in early autumn mornings and seeing the sun after months of grey winter skies.

And then he doesn't think of anything anymore, only focuses on his heartbeat and the feeling of taking root, of being safely grounded.

(The scales stop tilting from side to side, finding their peace in perfect balance at last.)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm pretty sure there was important stuff i wanted to talk about in the end notes but nope it's 5am my brain is in sleep mode
> 
> oh right: i've used mostly the scripts for reference and stuff like that, and not the show, so there might be some really minor discrepancies??? (apparently the quote that was my prompt wasn't used in the final version either so like yeah idk, just in case there's any confusion)
> 
> title is from 'Always Gold' by Radical Face
> 
> the song Simon sings is, in case you didn't notice, the same he sings at the commune in the first episode of season two ('Lake of Fire' originally by The Meat Puppets)


End file.
